


The Hallowick

by storyplease



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Halloween, the hallowick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-04
Updated: 2016-11-04
Packaged: 2018-08-29 00:00:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8468014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storyplease/pseuds/storyplease
Summary: Hermione discovers a new old tradition to bring back to Hogwarts for her last year at school. But is the Hallowick truly what it appears to be, or will Hermione find that she's brought back something far darker than she expected?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Note: So I attempted to get this story done before Halloween, but the story had other ideas (including ballooning until it was so bloody long I started wondering if i was writing another epic novel without realizing it). So, I know it’s a few days late, but (I hope) it’s worth the wait.

Hermione sighed deeply. She had just finished reviewing the longest, most boring chapter on the four-month goblin rebellion of 1324 that she’d ever read before in her life. Stifling a yawn, she stretched and put her books back into her rucksack.  Her back was incredibly stiff from sitting in the library chair, even after regularly refreshing a Cushioning Charm, but she knew she couldn’t allow a little stiffness to stop her from studying. With only two weeks until Halloween, a lot of the professors would be administering pop quizzes.  Hermione knew what to expect, seeing as she was finally taking her seventh year after all the time and effort had been put into rebuilding the castle after the war. In fact, she’d just turned twenty years old a few weeks earlier, and was feeling quite like an adult, indeed.  And adults always made sure to be prepared, so Hermione was really only doing what was expected of her, really.

Well, that was what she like to tell herself, anyway.

 

She’d just stepped out of the library door, and was in the midst of debating with herself about the merits of heading to the kitchens for a quick snack before going up to the common room, when the massive form of Rubeus Hagrid flew past her so quickly that the only way she could be fairly certain it was him was due to his sheer height and size.

 

And the fact that his head appeared to be  _ on fire. _

 

Hermione did a double-take, her eyes growing wide as saucers and she ran after Hagrid, her wand at the ready.

 

“AGUAMENTI!” she shouted at the top of her lungs as she rounded the corner, closing in on the groundskeeper, who’d slowed down to a more manageable pace, his breath labored from sprinting.

 

Hagrid only had a moment to look behind him with widened eyes before a giant wave of water poured down from above, soaking his beard and clothing without extinguishing the giant orange flame atop his head.

 

“What’cha done that for, lass?!” Hagrid boomed, wringing out his sleeve. “Mightcha lend us a hand?”

  
Hermione blinked and recovered from her shock.  Of  _ course _ .  Hagrid didn’t have a wand. With a wave and flick of her wand, the water was gone and Hagrid was looking decidedly less soggy.

 

“I”m so sorry, Hagrid!” she said, blushing with shame, “I thought that...I thought…” Her eyes went to the flame on Hagrid’s head before she forced them to stare at the ground again.

 

“Ah, well, yer heart was in the right place, ‘ermione,” Hagrid said good-naturedly, “I do ‘preciate bein’ dried out, though.”

 

“Well, if you don’t mind me asking….can you….tell me about, er, that?” Hermione pointed at the flame, feeling pinpricks of embarrassment fill her chest.

“Oh, yeh don’ know, do yeh?” Hagrid explained.

 

“Know what?” Hermione tilted her head to the side, feeling foolish.

 

“Abou’ Wizardin’ ‘alloween, yeah?”

 

Hermione shifted uncomfortably on her feet.  She’d thought she’d celebrated Wizarding Halloween for the past several years, but from Hagrid’s grin she could tell that he was bursting at the seams to tell her all about it.

 

“Well, ya see, ‘ere at ‘ogwarts, we do things a bit low key,” Hagrid explained.  

 

Hermione thought back to the enchanted pumpkins and bats and was fairly certain that her definition of low key was very different than Hagrid’s.

  
“The truth is, ‘alloween is traditionally like our Christmas,” Hagrid said, “Only the one who comes on All Hallow’s Eve is called The Hallowick. They say ‘e’s got a flame burstin’ from the top o’ his head an’ a face like a jack-o-lantern and ‘e likes to give special treats to those who do the best tricks. All in good nature, y’see. No nasty-like stuff that hurts anyone.”

 

Hermione frowned and then her eyes widened with comprehension.

 

“And obviously, the Ministry, the Board, and the school doesn’t like the idea of pranksters grabbing hold of an excuse to destroy the school in a vicious contest to one-up one another, am I right?” she asked, giving him a knowing look.

 

Hagrid nodded and then his eyes went wide as well.

 

“Oh no, I shouldn’ a said that,” he fretted, “Hermione, please, be a dear ‘n don’t tell a soul.  I jus’ wanted ter wear my new hat, an’ thought no one would see. I was even runnin’ to keep from bein’ seen.”

 

Hermione didn’t have the heart to tell Hagrid that he’d been even more noticeable than usual while sprinting down the halls.

 

“Ken yeh get back to Gryffindor Tower on yer own?” Hagrid asked kindly, looking at the heavy bag of books on Hermione’s back.

 

“Oh, yeah,” Hermione said distractedly, “Actually, I forgot one of my books in the library so...um...good evening Hagrid! I do really like your hat!”

 

Hagrid reached up and put his fingers through the magical flame, which didn’t seem to burn him at all. “D’ya really? Thanks, Hermione!”

 

With a cheerful wave, Hermione ducked back into the library, braving the disapproving glare from Madam Pince.  But instead of being embarrassed as usual, her mind was on other things.  

 

She had research to do.

* * *

 

Harry and Ron had expected Hermione to be waiting up in the Common Room. What they had not expected was a common room that was now filled with all manner of strange, beautiful and frightening things.  Hermione stepped down from the ladder where she'd been stringing colorful lights that looked like rainbow will-o-wisp fire. A strange-shaped figure, made of sticks tied with twine, towered in the corner, also obviously magically assembled.

 

“Hello, you two,” Hermione said, grinning at them in a  _ very _ uncharacteristically-Hermione sort of way 

 

Harry was too busy standing with his mouth agape to respond, Ron's eyes, on the other hand, were lit up with wonder and excitement. 

 

“Blimey, ‘Mione!” he exclaimed. “Where'd you learn to do this?”

 

“I thought you’d know all about it, Ron,” Hermione said, putting only marginal effort into keeping the smugness out of her voice, “After all, the Hallowick only comes once a year.”

 

Ron turned as scarlet as his hair and looked to be close to a furious outburst when Harry turned and asked, “Ron? Be a mate and fill me in... _ please _ ?”

 

Ron took one look at the pleading expression in his best friend’s eyes, and let out a huff of irritation. “I’d be  _ happy _ to,  _ mate _ ,” he said slowly, staring daggers at Hermione, who flounced over to grab a couple of small pumpkins and levitated them towards one of the tables. “You see, every year, other than their birthdays, Halloween has always been Fred and George’s favorite holiday because of the Hallowick. A playful yet powerful spirit, some say that it was once human, while some Wizarding fairytales refer to it as a magical being that, like Santa Claus, brings gifts that satisfy your heart’s desire as long as you are willing to pay the price.”

 

“The price?  That sounds a bit dark, don’t you think?” Harry wrinkled his nose as he frowned slightly.

 

“It’s not as grim as all that,” Hermione interjected, standing over them with her arms crossed. “Santa brings you a present if you’re well-behaved all year long, right?  Well, the Hallowick brings you a present if you successfully pull off at least one good-natured prank and bring laughter to those around you.  It’s third year material, you know. Most magical beasts gain or lose power from the emotional state of humans, especially those of us with magic.  Like dementors and unicorns, for example.”

 

Harry and Ron stared at her, their eyes glazing over.

 

Harry recovered first. “That’s great and all, Hermione, but what exactly does that mean in  _ this _ situation?”

 

“Yeah,” Ron grumbled, “I thought we were talking about the Hallowick in order to have a bit of fun, not get a lecture.”

 

“There’s plenty of fun to be had, though!” Hermione protested. “We’re going to carve up jack-o-lanterns, only these will be charmed to sing and light up when someone passes by.  I had the idea to put them in the dark alcoves of the castle where no one would be expecting them. Then, on All Hallow’s Eve, we send up our wands at the stroke of midnight and send our wishes to the Hallowick with a simple spell.”

 

As though to demonstrate this, Hermione stuck her wand up towards the ceiling and closed her eyes, a frown of concentration on her face. “V _ enit Púeros! _ ” she shouted, sending a fiery glowing sphere from the tip of her wand, where it bobbed against the ceiling for a few moments before finding a current of fresh air and floating out through one of the Common Room’s windows into the night sky.

 

“That’s brilliant, Hermione!” Harry said, his eyes lighting up. “I don’t know about the singing part, but the Dursleys never let me carve a jack-o-lantern, so I’d love to do one of my own.”

 

“Well, and you know…” Ron trailed off looking thoughtful. “If you really want to pull off the best pranks there’s one person I’ll need to owl.”

 

“George?” Harry asked, looking torn. “Are you sure...he’s up for it?”

 

“It’s been over a year...since…” Ron looked sad for a moment and then shook his head. “No. I’ll never hear the end of it if I don’t let George know.  Hermione, you’re fine with getting the heat for this if anything goes wrong, right?”

 

“Hmph!” Hermione snorted, “It’s a traditional Wizarding custom!  As long as none of the pranks are too extreme, I don’t see any harm in it, especially if I get to see the Hallowick in the flesh!”

 

“Well, you know, I’m not opposed to it, but don’t you think Draco and his cronies will make a stink about it?” Harry asked, frowning slightly.

 

“Hermione does have a point, though,” Ron said, looking somewhat impressed, “and besides, Draco only just escaped being thrown in Azkaban.  His opinion isn’t worth much compared to three war heroes who helped to defeat the ultimate evil!”

 

“I just have one question- whatever happened to the Hermione who thought that being expelled was worth than death?” Harry asked with a mischievous grin.

 

“I’m pretty sure that nearly leveling the castle fighting a bunch of Death Eaters was most definitely against the rules,” Hermione said with a sniff, “and if they didn’t expel us for that, well, there’s not much worse we could do, now is there?”

 

Harry and Ron seemed shocked for a moment before nodding in agreement.

 

She  _ did _ have a point.

Word that the so-called Golden Trio were bringing back the traditions of the Hallowick spread through the school like wildfire.  Tiny will-o-wisp lights in festive fall colors appeared on various shrubbery around the castle.  Singing, light-up Jack-o-lanterns surprised a number of students.  Candies popped out of knapsacks and shoelaces tied themselves into fantastic knots when one put them on.  George even came up with a product that would make the soles of shoes light up as though walking over coals, as the Hallowick was rumored to be able to do with its horned boots. The staff initially tried to ban them, but when no one caught fire, it was quickly considered a harmless bit of holiday fun, especially when Flitwick was caught with a pair of his own. 

  
Many were waiting on bated breath for Hogwarts a visit from the Hallowick for the first time in recent memory. Though there were many little pranks and jokes, no one had engaged in a single overtly malicious prank, though Draco Malfoy had woken up with his hair singed a fiery red one morning, and no one would fess up to the stunt.

 

Ron had a suspiciously smug look on his face at breakfast, but he’d also just managed to shove five sausages into his mouth at once, so there was no telling which he was more pleased about.

 

There was only one detractor to their newfound holiday cheer.

* * *

 

“I’ve got a great idea for a prank, but it’ll take the both of us. It’s gonna be wicked,” Ron whispered to Harry that morning in DADA class. 

 

Hermione shushed him, but it was too late.

 

“ _ Ahem _ .”  Hermione, Harry and Ron all turned to look at the tall, angular visage of Professor Snape glowering down at them. “So, shall I take it that I can attribute the number of times my robes have been singed by a runaway jack o'lantern to you three?  Why am I not surprised? Ten points from Gryffindor for talking about inane drivel during lecture.  _ Each _ .”   
  


“Why, I outta-” Harry’s eyes narrowed, as Snape walked away, heading silently back to the front of class.

 

Hermione looked at her best friend, her eyes narrowing with worry. Harry had been one of the most vocal proponents of exonerating Snape when the man had been found to be merely very close to death when they went back for his body later on after the final battle.  She still wasn’t sure if it was motivated more by guilt than any actual affection that Harry held for the bitter man, but she did have the sneaking suspicion that he would have been much happier if the man truly had been dead so that his continued unpleasant existence would not serve as a constant reminder that, regardless of what he’d done to defeat Voldemort, he was still a total bastard.

 

Hermione didn’t know the details, only that Headmistress McGonagall had provided the Wizengamot with magically sealed documentation from Dumbledore’s vault that had exonerated Snape of any wrongdoing.  Still, most didn’t honestly believe that it was true, and that Snape’s tenure as Headmaster had given him opportunities to create false documentation to clear his name should his dark master ever be defeated.  Of course, the Wizarding World had slid into an economic slump after the war due to a declining population and the various expenses that cropped up after so many Death Eater attacks and the necessity of rebuilding Hogwarts, so there weren’t many jobs or much that could be spared to give to war heroes beyond a few medals (most of which Snape did not show up to received due to the number of death threats he received from his detractors). 

 

And so, he’d come back to Hogwarts, which was the only place he’d ever had a job or place where he could live in a way he was used to.  Hermione could understand that.  She’d practically bullied Harry and Ron to come back and finish their last year two years later, and she still felt more comfortable at Hogwarts than she did anywhere else, regardless of all that had happened. Harry kept teasing her that she’d become a permanent Hogwarts fixture if she wasn’t careful, but Hermione wasn’t exactly sure if she minded that, especially since the closest thing to a home she had during the summer months was a tiny back room bedsit over Madam Puddifoot’s in Hogsmeade.

 

“It has come to my attention that some of you have decided that reintroducing Hallowick is a fun and enjoyable tradition to bring back to the hallowed halls of Hogwarts,” Snape said loudly, sneering coldly at Harry, Ron and Hermione. “I, on the other hand, would love to rain on your parade.”

 

Snape turned, moving towards the chalkboard and waved his wand, instantly lowering the screen. It was suddenly very obvious to Hermione that Snape had actually gone through great lengths to create the day’s lesson plan as he paraded slide after slide of Hallowick pranks gone horribly wrong and went on at length about how many people had been sent to the Infirmary and sometimes even St. Mungos due to “this utter nonsense.”

 

“I’ll bet he’s just mad because he’s had to fend off the largest number of pranks himself,” Ron whispered to the others from behind his hand. Harry nodded in agreement.

 

But Hermione’s hand was high in the air, already poised to ask a question.

 

“Yes, Miss Granger?” Snape’s voice was more of a hiss than a question.

 

“Have you ever used the Hallowick’s Wish spell?” Hermione asked, and then, when he scowled even more deeply at her, she added, “I mean, just to make sure that you could?”

 

Snape pointed his wand violently at the screen, causing it to snap up loudly and bore down on her, looking every bit the fearsome Death Eater that everyone had thought him that final year.

 

“Never of my own free will,” he said, at last, causing the class to let out a long-held breath. “And neither, in my opinion, should any of you, if you know what’s good for you. You’re messing with powers far darker and greater than you know. Now, since all of you are so interested in following silly rituals instead of actually doing your coursework, I am prescribing three feet of parchment on will-o-wisps and how they vary based on climate, location and diet.  You will also write about how to properly identify, defeat and use its properties for Potions ingredients. Dismissed!”

 

With that, Snape stormed through the back door to the classroom and slammed it behind him angrily.

 

Severus stood bent over his fireplace and stared at the flickering flames below him.  He shouldn’t have let it bother him so much, but he could still remember when he’d been reading through a book from the Restricted Section in his seventh year and found out about the Hallowick.  He, too, had done his research, bringing it up to his fellow Slytherin students as a way to appeal to their sense of pure blooded pride. There had been a campaign, of course, and most of the school had gotten behind Slytherin because it was supposed to be great fun.  The Hallowick’s Wish spell was supposed to have solved his problems. His prank against Potter and Black had been genius. They’d tried to get the drop on him, but he’d been prepared, knocking them both out and trussing them up like prized pigs.  He’d levitated them down to the kitchens, transfiguring their noses into pig snouts, and put them both on large, silver plates with an apple in each of their mouths as they lay under a Full Body Bind, glaring at him with hatred.  The elves had been happy to help after he’d assured them that he wasn’t going to harm them, just teach them a lesson.  The Hogwarts house elves knew better than many just how insidious the Marauders had been to Severus all his years at school, since no one ever seemed to see them.  Severus, however, who was very skilled in not being seen, always knew when they were around, a skill that had always served him well as a child when his father was drunk and looking to use him as a punching bag.

 

That evening, Severus had sat at his table, ready to use the Hallowick’s Wish spell with the others and subtly watching Lily’s annoyed expression when she realized that Potter and Black were not at the table.  Suddenly, laughter rang throughout the Hall as Potter and Black magically appeared on silver platters at the High Table. Of course, most of the professors were too busy laughing to free the two young men, but McGonagall finally intervened, dispelling Severus’ spellwork and making them take their seats at Gryffindor Table.  Sirius stared furiously at Severus while James tried to quietly talk down a glaring Lily Evans.  Severus felt as though Christmas had come early.  Not only were those two boys humiliated, but Lily was obviously not hearing any of James’ excuses.

 

“All right, then, students! No more pranking! Time to raise your wands!” Dumbledore said affably as a few little prank poppers made a girl jump up from Hufflepuff table with a squeak.

 

“V _ enit Púeros! _ ” everyone cried, sending their wishes out up into the air.  

 

Each ball was a different color of pulsing light, and they grew smaller and smaller until they were carried out through the tall windows of the Great Hall and into the night. Severus let a hint of a smile touch his lips.  He knew that he couldn’t use names in the wish- the Hallowick did not have the ability to use specialized magic, much like Santa Claus. However, just like most largely unknown wild magic, Severus knew that any pure-hearted wish would come true without a shadow of a doubt as long as his participation in the pranking requirement was successful. He’d practiced the words of his wish, agonizing over them for many days until he felt that they would fit how he felt about Lily even if he could not use her name.

 

_ I wish to find the one who will love me more than any other in my life. _

 

It worked perfectly, leaving his wand in a flash of bright red and green, finally flaring an electric blue before joining the others.

 

And, though many wishes had gone right soon after, it had been James Potter that Lily Evans had kissed under the flickering faux will-o-wisp fire, not Severus Snape.  

 

The joke was on him, as usual. The Hallowick must be laughing at him, he knew. Even liquid luck would never be enough to destroy the influence of the dark star he’d been born under.

 

Severus let his heart harden.  If he couldn’t have a happy ending, then he’d give up on the fairytale and stop fighting the nightmare that wanted to claim him.

 

Maybe it would finally end him the way he’d always been far too cowardly to do himself.

* * *

 

Hermione knew that it was past curfew, but she honestly didn’t care.  Her fear of losing points had been lost the moment she’d had to start fighting for her life.  Harry and Ron had just parted ways with her, saying that they wanted to run one more prank on the Slytherin Common Room before the All Hallows Eve dinner the following night.  Hermione used their pretense to go halfway, saying she wanted to sneak into the library, but she’d actually just waited for them to leave before heading down after them into the dungeons and going a slightly different route until reaching the door to Snape’s personal quarters.

  
Now, Hermione wasn’t sure if this would work, but she’d been very thorough. She’d dug through over ten different photography club books before she’d found what she was looking for. Then, after making copies with a handy spell she’d found in  _ Greymore’s Advanced Charms Compendium _ , she’d prepared for this confrontation.

 

She knocked on the door, still feeling somewhat uneasy.  After all, it was possible that-

 

“Miss Granger? And to what do I owe your….unwanted presence?”  Hermione let out a tiny shriek of panic and fell back against the heavy door, her heart thudding with terror.

 

He was still at least a head taller than her, even though he was nowhere near as able to tower over her now that she’d finally finished growing.  His face, however, was still as intimidating as ever.  Hermione swallowed thickly and tried to order her thoughts.

 

“I...I thought….” she started.

 

“Spit it out, Miss Granger,” Snape said, more tired than angry. “I wish to go to bed.”

 

Hermione’s mind immediately imagined Snape stretched out rigidly in his long, thin bed wearing a sleeping cap and looking unamused and frowned slightly at how ridiculous it seemed to imagine him doing anything besides swooping around and scowling.

 

“I wish to speak to you...privately,” Hermione said, pulling the stack of papers from her bag.

 

“I do not make a habit of allowing students into my personal quarters, which, by the way, I was unaware you knew the location of to begin with,” Snape replied, looking suspicious.

 

“I had to...um...help the Headmistress with….some things, and…” Hermione looked away, feeling suddenly self-conscious.

 

“You were the one who sent my robes to St. Mungos.”  It wasn’t a question, but he seemed genuinely surprised.

“We...um...thought that it would be easier if you could wear something familiar after...that horrible business and how you almost...almost…” Hermione faltered, unable to say the words. “I also sent those books,” Hermione offered, feeling sillier by the moment for nearly crying in front of  _ Snape _ , of all people.

 

Snape looked at her for a long moment before seeming to decide something in his head and sighed deeply.  “Fine. Come in, but I reserve the right to throw you out if I find your company wanting.”

 

Hermione slid to the side and followed him into the pitch-black room, jumping slightly as the door shut heavily behind her.

 

“Well, come in.  I promise that the reports of me hanging from the rafters and sucking blood are highly exaggerated.”  Snape shrugged off his cape and hung it over a chair before bending down to untie his boots, placing them by the door next to each other in an almost military fashion.

 

He pointed his wand at the fireplace and a cheery roar billowed to life, casting a flickering, honey-colored glow on the room around them.  He lit the candles with another swoop and flick of his wand and the room began to truly come into view.  

 

Snape’s quarters was both spacious and opulent while also seeming mostly spartan.  It was obvious that the quarters of the Head of Slytherin had come with many things and that Snape had not added many things of his own beyond a couple of large bookcases filled with tomes and the rather plain-looking clothing in the open closet that she saw hanging through the door to his bedroom before he followed her gaze and immediately waved his wand, shutting the door with a heavy slam.

 

“It isn’t proper for you to see a wizard’s private room,” he huffed.

 

“I’ve seen it before,” Hermione countered before she could stop herself. “I’m not some kind of-”

 

“What were you hoping to discuss with me?” Snape said, raising an eyebrow at her and interrupting her flow of thoughts instantly. “And stop pacing, girl! You’re making me nervous!”

 

Hermione noticed that Snape was also fidgeting, his fingers folding back and forth with practiced habit.  She wondered if he normally did that or if it was something new, and filed the information away for later.

 

She took a seat on the end of a long couch that was made of a surprisingly plush purple velvet.  She imagined that it was probably something that Slughorn had left when he’d retired.  Snape took a seat in the wingback chair to her right, steepling his fingers to stop them from moving.

 

“I was going through some past issues of the Hogwarts Photography Club and found these,” she said, handing a few pieces of parchment with the transcribed images to Snape. “Apparently, there was a Hallowick celebration back when you were a student here, professor.”

 

Snape didn’t seem surprised until he saw the photos, his eyes growing wide with shock.  “I had no idea we even had a photography club,” he muttered, more to himself than anything.

 

The pictures showed James Potter and Sirius Black posed on silver plates, their noses transfigured into pig snouts with apples stuffed in their mouths.  There was also a picture of a much younger Snape at his table, a bunch of his fellow students congratulating him and patting him on the back as he gave a slight half-smile.  He wasn’t quite looking at the camera, and by his reaction, it was obvious he hadn’t realized they’d been taken at all. 

 

“They’d apparently been taken by one of the younger Slytherin students.  Fourth year, I think?” Hermione ventured. “You look pretty happy there. I must admit, it was a pretty clever prank.”

 

“Hmph,” Snape replied, looking ever-so-slightly smug with himself, “Even so, happiness is a fleeting, unreliable emotion. I can’t say I have had much use for it. I wasn’t quite telling the truth, before, in class. We all did the Hallowick Wish shortly afterwards. Together, as a school. Silly nonsense. All that work and for nothing. I never tried it again after that.”

 

“Professor….” Hermione stared at him, feeling bad that she’d brought it up.

 

“I should like to keep these,” Snape said, placing them on his lap.

 

“Of..of course,” Hermione replied. “Just...one thing…”

 

“Yes?”

 

“What you wished for….did...did you get it?” Hermione asked, her voice barely a whisper.

 

Snape gave her an oddly vulnerable look and made a strange noise, almost like a chuckle.

 

“Do you think that I would be here, in the position I am, if I had?” he asked.

 

Hermione did not know what to say to that. She unfolded the other pages and handed them to him as well. These were actual pages that looked as though they had been ripped from a book.

 

Severus fixed her with a suspicious glare before turning them over.

 

“I just want you to know that I understand why you said what you said in class,” she said softly, blushing slightly when the tips of his fingers brushed against hers. They were so cold, she had to suppress a shiver. There was something about him that seemed different in the flickering light, something that she knew he would never show in the hallways or the classroom.

 

He looked at the pictures, his eyes narrowing and clouding with remembered pain.

 

“Of course, they put these in there as well,” he said flatly, placing them face down on top of the other pictures, his fingers drawing into fists.

 

“I’m sorry...It was horrible what they did to you,”  Hermione said, looking at how his face seemed to change in the shadow of the fire.

 

“The teachers told me they were just pranks, nothing special. My so-called friends in Slytherin told me to fight back, but they were never there to help me out.  The teachers were no help. All they could do was give detentions, which those lot happily served it if meant being able to take a go at me.” Snape stared at the fire, his eyes going far away. “They tried to  _ kill _ me.  Would have gotten away with it, too.  Even my Housemates would have said it was for the best.”

 

“That’s not true! Surely, no one would wish you d-dead!” Hermione said, horrified.

 

“Does that look like they want me to  _ walk away from it _ ?” Snape hissed, suddenly, stuffing the picture of himself gagging and retching on Scourgify bubbles as a group of students stood around him, laughing.  James Potter was pointing a wand at him with a cocky expression on his face, so it wasn’t hard to tell who had cast it. “That happened only a couple months after Black sent me after Lupin on the full moon in the hopes I’d get mauled to death.” He sneered and then made an odd, surprised expression. “Huh, I guess I really can talk about it again, now that everyone involved in the incident other than myself is dead.”

 

Hermione gave him a sympathetic look, not trusting herself to say anything.

 

“I’m not even sure why I’m telling you this, other than the fact that no one will believe you anyway. In any case, consider this a part of a long list of reasons why I shall never lower myself to engage in any absurd Hallowick shenanigans,” Snape continued bitterly. “I think that you should go. You’re out after curfew, so I should take points, but I find myself far too tired to do so at the moment.  Leave now before I summon the strength.”

 

Hermione didn’t need to be told twice.  She stood and, before she’d really thought it through, she stepped forward and placed her hand on his shoulder. He looked up, eyes wide and startled as though just realizing she was there. She held his gaze for a long moment, neither saying anything.

 

Then, as though a spell had been broken, she snatched her hand away from his shoulder, wondering at the warmth that she could still feel on the palm of her hand and moved quickly for the door, closing it softly behind her.

 

By the time that Hermione got to Gryffindor Tower, she’d had a brilliant idea.

 

If Professor Snape refused to wish for what he truly wanted, then it would have to be up to her to give it to him.

 

Now, if only she could figure out what he wanted.

* * *

 

“Malfoy, a word,” Hermione said, feeling slightly guilty when the young man in question jumped and turned with a look of fear on his face.

 

“I promise! I didn’t do anything! I-” Draco seemed to realize that he wasn’t being ambushed three-on-one and his eyes narrowed. “I don’t have anything to say to you, Granger.”

 

“I have a question about Professor Snape,” Hermione asked, ignoring the look that Draco gave her, as though she’d just told him she had a question about the proper way to roll in Hippogriff excrement. “I want to know what he likes.”

 

“What he... _ likes _ ?” Draco asked, dropping his disdainful sneer and scratching his head with puzzlement. “I mean, no offense, but are you mental? Snape doesn’t like  _ anything _ !”

 

“ _ Professor _ Snape, Draco! Well, he’s got to like  _ something _ !” Hermione replied, growing irritated.  She knew he liked books and potions, but he had plenty of those things. She needed more specifics. “I know he’s...related to you.”

 

“Not by blood,” Draco replied with an annoyed sniff. “I mean, it’s common knowledge that he’s technically my godfather, but that’s only because my father couldn’t get anyone else to do it because of the war and all.”

 

Hermione could tell that Draco was lying, but she still wasn’t sure what, exactly, he was lying about.

 

“Well, if you can think of anything, just let me know,” Hermione said, feeling stupid for asking Draco Malfoy for anything in the first place.

 

“Hmph, as though I’d tell you,” Draco replied, turning and stalking away with his hands in his pockets.

 

It was All Hallow’s Eve.  Hermione knew that there wasn’t much time left.

 

It was then that she remembered something that Snape had said the night before.  With fire in her eyes, Hermione raced to the owlry, a new idea growing more distinct in her mind by the moment.

* * *

 

Severus did not want to go to supper in the Great Hall, but there was nothing for it.  McGonagall had made it mandatory in case students had trouble with the spell, but Severus wanted nothing more than to hide in his office with a glass of firewhiskey.  He’d tried to burn the pictorial evidence of his humiliation, but found himself unable to do so.  The images, though thankfully stationary on the page, for the photography club had obviously not had enough of a budget to process them the magical way, reminded him of far too many bad moments, and yet he still could not bring himself to destroy them.

 

They sat under a book on mountain trolls on his desk, but he could still feel their presence like an itch in his mind.

 

He still would rather suck basilisk eggs than give an inch on his hatred of the season.  Tomorrow was when his only friend in the world had been murdered because of something he’d said.  Tomorrow was Halloween, and it was, for all intents and purposes, the worst day of the year.  Tomorrow, many years in the past, would be the day that James Potter and LIly Evans formally announced that they were a couple after showing up disheveled and sheepish-looking at the Great Hall for breakfast.

 

She forgave Potter.  Over and over, for all of the terrible, cruel things he’d ever done, but she’d never forgiven  _ him. _

 

Severus could feel his foul mood worsening.

 

The knock at his door made him groan with frustration.

 

“LEAVE ME ALONE!” he shouted.

 

“Severus, it’s Filius.  Minerva sent me down here to tell you that you need to be at the Great Hall in fifteen minutes.”

 

“ _ Fine _ !” Severus shouted back, knowing full well that he sounded like a petulant child.

 

“Are you….doing alright?” Filius squeaked through the door, after a long pause.

 

“What do  _ you _ think?” Severus grumbled back, hating himself for shouting at a colleague but knowing that he couldn’t really take it back without looking foolish.

 

“I see. So that’s how it is.” Filius sounded as disappointed as Severus felt. “Well. I’ll go, then.”

 

Severus waited until he was sure the diminutive professor was gone before he ventured out of his office.  The halls were all but deserted, as it was obvious that everyone was excited to get the festivities underway.  Severus sneered as he trudged up from the dungeons, stopping to Vanish a couple of un-tripped pranks that lay hidden in various doorways and hidden passageways on his way to the Great Hall. He sneered at the pair of wind-up false teeth that grinned up at him from an alcove near one of the vacant classrooms and Vanished it with a growl as it began to click and clatter.

 

“Oh! Professor! Aaaagh!” Severus had only a moment to turn and realize that he was about to collide with a nearly airborne Hermione Granger with the toe of her shoe caught on some sort of trip wire.

 

There was a flash, an impact, an explosion of darkness, and Severus knew no more.

* * *

 

Hermione groaned and coughed, her lungs aching with pain.  She’d inhaled something horrible- it was only when she realized she was covered with dark black powder that she realized she’d been dusted with a liberal coating of Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder.

 

Someone coughed from underneath her and Hermione scrambled back, grunting with pain when she realized her ankle felt as though it was on fire. She thought back, remembering how she’d tripped on something, which had caused her to run into-

 

“Professor?! Are you alright?!” Hermione used her sleeve to wipe the black dusting of powder off of Snape’s face.  She couldn’t see what she looked like, but she imagined they both looked like turn-of-the-century chimney sweeps.

 

“Ugh….” he groaned, and she scrambled back even further when she realized she was still sitting on his legs, which were sprawled out underneath her. “What happened?”

 

“It was some sort of...prank…” Hermione trailed off as he opened his eyes and gave her a look that said  _ I told you so _ .

 

Snape dusted himself off and sat up, looking at their surroundings with a frown on his face. Hermione followed his gaze and saw at once what the problem was- one of the secret stone passageway frames had collapsed, creating a minor rockslide before them.  Behind them, where the passageway normally ended, a large, semi-solid magical barrier stood made of what looked like fire with an unmistakable silhouette of a lion in the middle.

 

Hermione tried a simple  _ Finite Incantatem _ , frowning more deeply when the spell bounced off of the barrier.  She tried to send her otter Patronus with a message for McGonagall, but it could not get through the flames and came back to her looking droopy and sad before dissipating. By this time, Snape had gotten to his feet and was prodding at the barrier with a stick he’d transfigured from a piece of rubble.  The stick caught fire almost immediately, and Snape quickly transfigured it back into stone, keeping the pointy shape.  That, too, had no effect on the barrier.

 

“I think the original prank was supposed to minorly inconvenience the victim and cause them to have to go around. I don’t think it was meant to be harmful,” Hermione mused from the floor.

 

“I don’t give a damn about the bloody  _ intention _ of the prank! This is  _ exactly _ what I was talking about!” Snape replied, throwing a rock at the barrier, only to have it bounce off and nearly hit Hermione on the shin.

 

“Hey!” Hermione cried.

 

“Why are you still on the floor, anyway?” Snape snarled, “Get over here and help me find a weak spot!”

 

“I would, but I think I hurt my ankle. I can’t put weight on it or move it much without a lot of pain.” Hermione said, gritting her teeth as she tried to do just that.

 

“Don’t get up, then, you idiot!” Snape rushed over, the barrier forgotten. 

 

“Get up, don’t get up,” Hermione taunted, “ _ you _ don’t even know what you want me to do.”

 

“Five points from Gryffindor for talking back to a teacher,” Snape said, bending down and looking at her ankle as though he disapproved of it for getting injured. “Now, let me see it.”

 

Hermione grimaced as he tilted her ankle back and forth in his cool, dry hands.  They felt surprisingly normal, actually, and she tried not to think about the fact that, if he looked up just a bit, he’d probably be able to see her knickers from where she sat.

 

“I’m not really a student anymore. I’m twenty years old, and I’m only here because I want to be here,” she said, a tiny pained gasp escaping her lips when he began to rotate her foot slightly to the left and stared at her ankle. Something looked slightly wrong about the motion and even though Hermione knew she was no doctor, she knew that there was something wrong.

 

“Then you are even more foolish to come back to this damnable place when you could have escaped it for good and lived your own life free from its confines,” Snape said, his voice full of concentration as he brought her ankle closer to his face and narrowed his eyes.

 

“Well,  _ you’re _ still here,” Hermione said somewhat huffily.

 

“Yeah, and you can see how well that’s working out for me,” Snape replied sardonically. “It looks like you may have dislocated or fractured something in your ankle,” he said at last, placing her leg down gently.  He pulled his cape off from over his shoulders and folded it, placing it on the ground under her foot to elevate it.  “This sort of bone breakage requires an expert at bone repair.  I can do basic legs and arms, of course, but this is more complex and may be worse than I think it is, and as tiresome as you are capable of being, you don’t deserve to be potentially crippled for life.”

 

“Well. Thanks for that,” Hermione said sarcastically as he sat down next to her, staring at the barrier with a scowl.

  
“Well, even though we’re trapped in a small passageway with limited air, no food and water, and no one knows we’re here, at least I can be glad that I don’t have to attend your stupid Hallowick event,” Snape said, finally, pulling his knees up and resting his chin on one of them.

 

“You knew that I was the one who started everything?” Hermione asked, blushing despite herself.

 

“I had a theory,” Snape replied, shrugging. “Now I know for certain.”

 

“So...why are you talking so informally with me, then?” Hermione said, after a long pause. “I thought you didn’t interact with students like this.”

 

“Would you prefer I start giving you a lecture and make you take notes?” Snape shot her a sideways glance, his expression hard to read.

 

“No...but...say...is it...c...cold in here?” Hermione’s teeth began to chatter and she began to hug herself.

 

“I’m not cold, but you may be going into a mild state of shock.  Here. Drink this.” Snape handed Hermione a tiny vial filled with reddish brown liquid.

 

Hermione unstoppered it and sniffed it.   _ Pepperup Potion _ . She drank it down, grimacing at the aftertaste.

 

“It won’t work perfectly, but it should help stop the involuntary shivering,” Snape said with a shrug as she blinked and realized the cold had disappeared. “Don’t ask how I know this.”

 

“Do you think you’ll ever call me by my first name?” Hermione asked idly after another long silence.  There was something about sitting in companionable silence with Severus Snape that seemed...comforting, and she’d started to let her mind wander. “I mean, I call Headmistress McGonagall by Minerva when we’re spending time together.”

 

Snape thought about this for a long moment.

 

“Probably when you find it perfectly comfortable to use my given name instead of my title or surname. I still call Malfoy by his last name and I knew him back when he was in short pants.”

 

“So if I called you Severus, you’d call me Hermione?” Hermione giggled at how weird it was to call him by his name.

 

“I...suppose.” Snape looked over at her, his expression unreadable. “You know, I was around your age when I started teaching.  Hated it from the start. In fact, I only did it because the Dark Lord ordered me to do it and Dumbledore agreed that it would be a good cover for my double agent duties.”

 

“Is teaching really that bad?” Hermione asked, aghast.

 

“Oh sure, there are some good students.  There are even classes that are enjoyable to teach.  But in between all of it are all of the moments that make you want to pull out your hair and scream obscenities into the void.” Snape ran his hand through his hair. “Being scary and sneering at people helps keep me sane. Don’t let this place trap you, Hermione. Because that’s what it is. A trap.”

 

“You just...called me…” Hermione’s eyes went wide.

 

“Hmm? Well, you did call me by my given name, and we are not currently working in our...normal capacity, so I assumed that it would not be unwelcome,” Snape replied with a shrug. “If you would prefer Granger, though-”

 

“No, no! Hermione is fine!” Hermione said, feeling her face growing warm, “Um...Severus….thank you. So...then...what would you do if you could escape?”

 

“You mean if I wasn’t trapped in a tiny, stuffy hidden passageway stuck between rocks and a hard place?” Severus asked, arching his brow.

 

“You know what I mean!” Hermione replied, reaching over and batting at his arm like she normally would do for Harry or Ron when they were being prats.

 

He looked at her oddly and then seemed to think about his reply. “I’d probably want to move somewhere quiet and remote and just... _ be _ for awhile.  Wake up when I wanted to. Fill my days with activities I enjoy.  Go to sleep early with a good book and then do it again.  Maybe after that do some potions patenting. I hear it can be good money if you know what you’re doing.  But not  _ this _ .  Never  _ this _ .”

 

“Do you...um...have someone you could...well, that is to say, do you have-” Hermione trailed off, wondering if she really had any right to ask him such questions.

 

“My family is all long dead and gone or, in the case of the remaining Princes out on the Continent, refuses to acknowledge me, if that’s what you mean. And I’m sure that Potter...or the Prophet...or  _ both _ ...filled you in on my...childhood friend  _ situation _ .”  Snape buried his nose in his knees, one dark eye the only thing glancing in Hermione’s direction.

 

“There’s no shame in only having one friend,” Hermione said reassuringly. “I only had one friend for a long time, and that was Neville Longbottom.”

 

“My sincere apologies,” Severus replied with a snort.

 

“He’s actually not all that bad when he’s not blowing up caldrons,” Hermione replied with a shrug. “Sure, he’s somewhat timid and he loses things and he’s kind of a nervous wreck, but...well...ok I can see where you’re coming from.  He’s gotten better, though.”

 

“I heard he killed Nagini,” Severus said coolly, “I should probably send a card.”

 

“Yeah, it was pretty impressive,” Hermione said, turning her head to look at him. “Hey, Severus?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Can I lean against you? I know I’m not shivering anymore, but I’m kind of off balance with my leg like this, and it’s starting to hurt my hip.”  Hermione braced herself to wince at overstepping her bounds but surprisingly, he raised his head and nodded.

 

“So, any other invasive personal questions, then?” Severus said, after Hermione has pressed her head against his dark-robed side, and Hermione could feel the rich boom of his voice in her chest. “Are you about to ask me about my long, dark history seeing ladies of the night in Knockturn Alley and becoming some sort of lothario?”

 

Hermione froze. “Is that true?”

 

A deep, throaty sound emanated from Severus’ mouth and Hermione realized that he was actually  _ chuckling _ in a way she had not thought possible.

 

“Believe me, if that was the case, we both would be the first to know,” Severus replied, giving her a sideways glance.

 

“Are you always this witty, or does breaking one’s ankle make one more perceptive to cleverness?” Hermione asked, fighting the urge to yawn. They’d been trapped for some time, and without a clock on the wall or a watch on her wrist, it was hard to tell how long it’d been.

 

“Perhaps a bit of both.  Perhaps it’s easier to be honest about my true nature with someone who has painstakingly researched my sordid past as designated Hate Object of the Marauders. I never shared that with anyone.  Not even Lily.  She didn’t believe me when I tried to tell her, and then I felt stupid for not being able to handle it myself, so eventually, I just gave up.” Snape was leaning against her as well, now.

 

“Well, we could do the Hallowick Wish together, if you’d like,” Hermione said, “It’d be for fun. You wouldn’t even have to wish for anything.”

 

“Are you still on about that stupid thing?” Severus looked as though he’d swallowed something sour. “I told you. I tried it myself after pulling off the ultimate prank. My wish didn’t come true. It didn’t matter. She still...chose him and I lost my one chance to be happy. End of story.”

 

“Well, I apologize if this sounds insensitive, but the last time I checked, you’re still alive,” Hermione retorted. “Are you telling me that you just expect to be miserable until the day you die because it didn’t work out with one person?”

 

“Well, I’m not sure you’ve looked around lately, but I don’t exactly have that many friends as it is, and there aren’t any that come to mind who appear to have the hots for me,” Severus snapped, pulling himself away from Hermione abruptly. “Most people still hate me- I receive at least ten death threats a month from the more dedicated members of the unofficial Snape Hate Fan Club, Merlin forbid they organize. It’s not exactly like there’s much of a chance for me to find anything to look forward to beyond a few quiet moments with a book and a particularly good glass of elf made wine.”

 

“Well, then, as one of those few people who don’t hate you, can you at least tell me what your wish was for?” Hermione asked, trying not to let an edge of irritation into her voice.

 

“It was a long time ago, Hermione,” Severus said, looking exasperated, “I doubt I could remember the exact phrasing. Something about finding someone who loves me the most or some such ridiculous romantic garbage like that. Of course, I meant  _ her _ .  Who else could there be?”

 

Hermione could feel her heart fluttering with an indefinable sensation as she tried to form the words she wanted to say to him. It wasn’t like she hadn’t thought of it before.  She’d always stood up for him, even when she was in her first year. She’d found him irritating, sure, but he’d found her irritating as well.  And, as much as she hated to admit it, she secretly loved how he always made her work harder by having impossible expectations. But it hadn’t been until her last year that she’d begun realizing that he always just seemed so….lonely. And, as she’d paid more attention to him, she realized that he reminded her a lot of herself before she’d made friends- pushing people away, shrilly correcting people the second they did something even marginally incorrect.

 

She’d spent more time than she knew was proper in his empty rooms while he’d been at St. Mungo’s. She’d also visited him every day before he’d woken up and barred all visitors from coming into his room.  She’d never admit it, but she’d pressed her nose into his robes as they hung in his closet and inhaled deeply, savoring the scent of them.  She’d looked through his books and sat on his chairs...she imagined what it would be like to be so lonely and isolated and hated for years and years, and her heart nearly broke thinking about how utterly  _ unfair _ that was.

 

“You know...that was going to be my wish,” she said, finally.

 

“What?” he asked suspiciously.

 

“I was going to give it to you,” she replied, somewhat sheepishly. “I wanted to wish for you to be happy-well and truly happy with your life, whatever that means.”

 

“But that’s-” he stopped, seemingly taking it in for a moment. “You don’t have to do that for me. I’m a caustic bastard and I’ve only ever caused you pain.”

 

“It probably won’t even work if I try,” Hermione said with a shrug, “I mean, I told you, so the wish won’t come true, right?”

 

She raised her wand in the air.

 

“But it’s worth a try, don’t you think?”

 

Severus stared. “Wait, you don’t have to-”

 

“V _ enit Púeros!”  _ Hermione shouted, and a ball of light grew from the tip of her wand so bright and so full of color that it could have been a miniature Aurora pouring from her wand.  It coalesced into a large sphere, bobbing against the ceiling above them.

 

“You idiot,” Severus said, though the barb held no teeth to it, “Now it’s going to stay there-”

 

A powerful crackling energy filled the stagnant air and Hermione found herself pressed back against the wall clutching her ankle in pain. Severus pulled himself in front of her with great effort as a light grew brighter and brighter before them. Both of them instinctively held their arms up to keep from being blinded.

 

There, impossibly tall and impossibly thin, stood a figure that looked as though it were made of of scribbled lines of darkness that approximated unnaturally long arms and legs and a torso that was far more space than substance. Strange runes decorated a cloak that billowed and snapped outward, giving the impression of a nebula of stars inside.  The head was a grinning jack-o-lantern, though there were other designs intricately carved in its flesh until it had an almost tattooed look to it.  The flame spouting from the top of its head flowed up and out around it like a mane of fire.

 

**_You have pleased me, little one. Your request is great, but the feast of trickery you offer in return is sufficient._ **

 

The voice came through in crackling static in Hermione’s head and when she turned to look at Severus, she could tell that he could hear it too.

 

**_Allow me to both grant your wish and another long past due._ **

 

From under the cape, the Hallowick pulled a small sack.  Reaching inside with its long spindly fingers, it finally grabbed something and pulled it out, holding it up for them to see.

 

“It’s my wish,” Severus whispered, unable to believe his eyes.

 

The Hallowick plucked Hermione’s wish from the ceiling and pressed the two together until the light was nearly unbearable to look at.  Hermione had a sense of a mouth beyond the wide, lipless jack-o-lantern grin opening impossibly large and swallowing the light whole.  Then, another, slightly dimmer light appeared in the jack-o-lantern’s eye, and the long fingers drew it out as though plucking a ripe apple from a tree.

 

**_Hold out your hands. Together. Take my gift and know its truth, for your happiness shall be as one forever._ **

 

Both Severus and Hermione knew better than to refuse. They held their hands out, palm to palm, receiving the gift of the Hallowick.

 

“Hermione...I…..” Severus gasped.

 

“It’s so….warm…” Hermione panted.

 

There was a clap of thunder as the Hallowick disappeared with a hearty, booming laugh that could put Hagrid to shame, and the light went out completely, leaving them both in darkness.

 

“Ugh…if I never get blown up again in my life, it will be too soon,” Severus said, rubbing the back of his head.

 

“Agreed,” Hermione groaned, her eyes growing wide as she realized her ankle didn’t hurt any longer.  

 

In fact, as they both looked around, not only was the caved-in hallway completely undamaged, but the fiery ward wall was nowhere to be seen.

 

“Was that...some sort of dream?” Hermione asked, her eyes widening even further when she realized that she was holding hands with Severus, and he seemed remarkably fine with this fact.

 

“I don’t think so, Hermione,” Severus said, holding up his wrist against hers.  There, pressed into the side of each of their wrists, was a small mark. “It looks like some sort of rune.”

 

Hermione took a step without wincing and then frowned.

 

“I want to do an experiment,” Hermione said, dropping his hand. Instantly she could feel the pain and fatigue setting in.  She stumbled as her ankle began to buckle under the weight of her body.  But when she took Severus’ hand again, the pain vanished, and she knew that her ankle had healed enough to put some weight on it without worsening it, even if it did appear to be temporary to some extent.

 

“Please, don’t let go….I….just keep touching me,” Severus said, his voice slightly full of awe as she squeezed his hand. “I...I feel...happy.  I keep waiting for it to go away, but it just...doesn’t…”

 

Hermione held out her other hand. “Take it,” she said firmly.  He did, a shiver of pleasure filling them both as they made contact.

 

“What is happening to us?” Severus asked, his voice growing small and somewhat uncertain.

 

“I think,” Hermione said, pulling close to him, her eyes on his, “it’s happiness. True happiness.”

 

His eyes were filled with disbelief turning to joy as she kissed him, revelling with pleasure as he melted against her lips, his gasps of pleasure only second to the sound of her own.

* * *

 

Though Hermione had missed it, she found out afterwards that the Hallowick event had been a riotous success in more ways than one. The staff had played a large-scale prank on everyone in the Great Hall using spooky dancing skeletons and a ghost choir led by Nearly Headless Nick who was actually quite the talented tenor as long as he could keep his head on. In the excitement, only Harry had noticed Hermione’s absence, and most people had considered Snape’s failure to show up a blessing in disguise.

 

At first, neither of them were able to rightly figure out the extent of the boon Hallowick had granted to them with its ancient magic, but they soon found out more.  Unwilling to allow her any further injury, Severus carried Hermione to the infirmary to find that her ankle, which still wasn’t fully healed, had, in the short time he’d taken to carry her there, knitted all the way to a sprain.  While they were touching each other, it seemed, they both not only became happier and felt their moods even out, but they also incurred accelerated healing abilities. These abilities appeared to heal more rapidly the more they were touching one another.  Complete bare skin to skin contact seemed to work best, but neither Hermione nor Severus were willing to try that out under observation.

 

Through this all, Severus remained skeptical that Hermione actually cared about him beyond this purely physical stimulus.  Sure, they’d been friendly for a short while and shared some secrets, but he could not believe that she’d kiss him willingly otherwise.  Hermione responded to this by snogging him silly, which would probably not have been such a huge problem had Harry and Ron not been nearby to take issue with their activity. 

 

In the end, though, he finally conceded to her (very persuasive!) lips as long as Hermione promised that he didn't have to pretend to be someone he wasn't, especially when it came to her choice of friends. 

 

Harry and Ron were still not altogether sure what to make of this sudden development between their best friend and least favorite professor, and had made it clear that she only needed to say the word and they'd hex Snape's bollocks off. 

 

“Do you really think that I need help with any kind of self defense?” Hermione said, giving Draco a scary look and smirking slightly when he turned and fled the opposite direction. 

 

“I know you can do fine when it comes to the hexing, but I also know how distracting it can be when you get caught up in feelings,” Harry said, giving Hermione a soft look. 

 

“Yeah,” Ron said. “Look at me- I gave Lavender a second chance and her family is practically sending out wedding invitations. Though, to be fair, she's mellowed out a lot. The scars are fading and she gets a bit growly on moon nights, but otherwise she's healing just fine.”

 

“Speaking of getting married, I hear congratulations are in order,” Hermione said slyly as Harry blushed scarlet. 

 

“Y-yeah.  It was….Ginny's wish and…” Harry held out his hand and Hermione had to admit that the engagement band Ginny had picked was rather fitting. 

 

“What was your wish, Harry?”

 

Harry sobered up quickly and fixed her with a look. “Oh. Right.  I didn't tell you guys yet.”

 

Hermione and Severus had not been the only ones to receive significant gifts from the Hallowick.  Harry told them about having an incredibly vivid dream where he got to see his parents, as well as Sirius and Remus, all of whom hugged him and told him that they were very proud of him.

 

“I woke up crying, but they were happy tears,” Harry said sheepishly. “We just spent time together- a whole night- talking, laughing, remembering the good things and appreciating each other.  That’s all I wanted, really. Just some time with my family.”

 

Ron, too, had spoken up about the dream that George had had the night before- a vivid dream where Fred was working with him in the joke shop.

 

“The first thing George said when I opened the door was ‘he was here with me!’” Ron said wistfully. “He looked as though Christmas had come early.”

 

Meanwhile, many relationships had sprung up overnight, from romance to new friendships in unlikely places.  Apparently, Draco had somehow become friends with Seamus Flanagan, though neither could rightly say how such a thing had happened other than the fact that they both had copies of Quidditch World Cup tickets for the following year in their pockets, each with consecutive seat numbers, and had spent the rest of the evening huddled in the corner of the Gryffindor Common Room talking excitedly about who they thought had a chance of making it. Draco looked happier than he had in ages, so Harry and Ron hadn’t had the heart to go over and harass him for hanging out in Gryffindor Tower.

 

It seemed like many things had changed that magical night, but even more interesting was the fact that this seemed to build a new sort of solidarity between the Houses than ever before.

 

Hermione and Severus, for the most part, kept their newfound relationship a secret, though Hermione moved her things to his quarters within next few weeks, as prolonged time away from his touch was physically draining.  Each night, they slept, wrapped tightly against one another until their skin purred with pleasure.  

 

It was indescribably difficult to leave the warmth of bed, and each other, in the morning.

* * *

 

Hermione stood, feeling nervous, as the Headmistress called upon her, and tried not to pay attention to the hundreds of eyes that seemed to watch her on the way to the podium. Hermione took a deep breath, turned, and stared out at the graduating class, which was larger than usual due to all of the students who’d been unable to take their last year due to the war and subsequent rebuilding efforts.  The Quidditch Pitch had been altered for the students to sit on the green, while thousands of parents, family members, and friends filled the seats.  Hermione cast a Sonorus charm on herself and began her speech.

 

“LIke many of you here,” she began, “I remember the first time I stepped off of the Hogwarts Express and saw the castle rising in the distance.  At the time, my breath was taken away by the sheer beauty I found here, but there were also challenges- fitting in, learning how to see things from a different perspective, learning about magic, saving the world. You know. First year stuff.”

 

She paused, as everyone chuckled knowingly and continued on, “Levity aside, though, though I will be eternally grateful for the expertise and guidance of my professors, I know that many of the things that I learned had nothing to do with my textbooks and everything to do with the people I have shared these halls with these past several years. From the most harrowing of adventures,” Hermione smiled at Ron and Harry, who gave her thumbs-up signs back, “to fighting against bullies,” she leveled a half-serious look at Draco, who rubbed his nose, “to a well-timed prank.” At that, a number of magical fireworks exploded above the stage, writing “Fred and George were here...at some point.” in fiery red sparks. A chuckle ran through the audience, and Hermione did her best not to look back at Severus, who she knew would be sitting with the other professors at the table behind her. Her hand itched to be safely pressed against his, but she told herself that she needed to be strong and get through this blasted graduation ceremony instead.

 

“But on a more serious note, you all came to Hogwarts ready to learn, and many of you fought for more than just a passing grade to get to where you are today.” Hermione did her best to keep her voice from quivering at the unsaid mention of all those who could not be there because they had lost their lives. “We have all sacrificed much to get to where we are today, and so, I would like to be the first, but hopefully not the last, to offer you a hearty congratulations and a round of applause.  Congratulations, fellow graduates.  You’ve made it to the close.”

 

Hermione stood and clapped loudly smiling as the audience joined in.  And then, Harry and Ron were there hoisting her up on their shoulders and everyone was clapping and cheering endlessly until McGonagall finally quieted everyone down and began the official commencement.

 

Hermione smiled, her heart light. 

 

It was almost time.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come back to the Burrow for the party? I promise you that you won’t be disappointed- Mum’s been cooking up a storm!” Ron said, looking as though he were about to start drooling.

 

“Ron, don’t be a prat!” Lavender said, slapping his shoulder lightly.  They laughed together and Hermione smiled awkwardly.  It was strange to see them back together as adults- they had both grown into such different people than when they were only sixteen, and it had only been a handful of years.

 

Harry squeezed Hermione’s shoulder and Ginny gave her a sympathetic look.  “Don’t worry, you’re always welcome, but we know you had other plans.”

 

“Thanks, guys,” Hermione said with a smile, “Congratulations!”

 

“Congratulations, Hermione!” everyone cried back, before Apparating away with a series of loud cracks.

* * *

 

“Are they gone yet?” Severus said, appearing behind Hermione and placing his arms around her.  Hermione sighed and snuggled against the warmth of his body. “Ahh, yes, much better. I reiterate- are they gone yet?”

 

“See for yourself, Severus,” Hermione replied. “They went to the Burrow- open invitation of course, but I thought you’d probably decline.”

 

“Well, seeing as I don’t want to have my bits hexed off by Molly-Mother-of-Us-All-Weasley, I don’t see how I could, even if I wanted to.” Severus kissed Hermione’s forehead, which made her wrinkle it slightly. “Did you? Want to go, I mean.”

 

“Nah, not really. I’m a bit tired of being congratulated for something that I knew would be a walk in the park at the beginning of the year but I suppose maybe you’re just rubbing off on me,” Hermione replied with a smirk.

 

Severus snorted and gave her a wicked look. “I’ll rub more than that on you if you’d like.”

 

“I’ll have to take a rain check on that, Severus. Someone’s coming.” Hermione said, reluctantly pulling herself away from him.

 

Minerva came over the hill and fixed them both with a look. “You both may have thought that you fooled me since I didn’t say anything, but I am no fool. When did it happen?”

 

“Halloween,” they both blurted, leaving Minerva with a strange expression on her face almost like a grimace mixed with a smirk.

 

“I’m of age, so it shouldn’t be a problem, I mean, he tried to push me away, but I forced the issue and the Hallowick’s magic makes us feel happy when we touch each other...so...please don’t be mad, Headmistress,” Hermione said hurriedly as Severus sighed and took Hermione’s hand in his.

 

“If I’m going to be shouted at, the least I can do is feel some pleasure in your touch,” he said softly, his expression almost painfully shy as he looked from Hermione to Minerva and back again.

 

“I’m not going to shout at either of you,” Minerva replied with a sniff, “I was merely going to offer my congratulations and ask you what your plans are.”

 

“Well, about that, Minerava...I...I’ve been meaning to tell you but-” 

 

“You need a replacement, as you will no longer be working at Hogwarts in the fall.” Minerva grinned ever so slightly.

 

“How did you- but….I didn’t even write it down or-” Severus sputtered, looking shocked.

 

“I wouldn’t be much of a Headmistress if I didn’t know a bit about you, Severus, and your dreams.  Far be it from me to keep you from chasing them. With Hermione by your side, I imagine that you both have dreams that are much bigger than this place.  Of course, Hogwarts will always welcome you home, but I can tell that you both have much to do before you’ll have need of the offer.”

 

“Thank you, Minerva,” Hermione said softly, kissing her cheek and trying to hold back tears as the older witch hugged her tightly and drew Severus in as well.

 

“Oh no you don’t, you old snake!” Minerva said, grabbing Severus and pulling him close. “There, now was that so bad?”

 

“Only very nearly,” Severus replied with a smirk.

 

“Well, then, go on, off with you! I’ll have your things sent to your forwarding address- just send an owl.” Minerva turned around. “You’d better be gone when I-” 

 

A loud crack rang through the air, and the Headmistress was left standing on her own.

 

“There,” she said to the empty air, her lips drawing up in a satisfied smile, “was that so hard?”

* * *

  
  


“Do you ever really know what you want to do with your life, or do you just stumble around blindly until you find yourself busy enough to justify staying where you are?” Hermione asked as she filled out yet another application.

 

“I don’t exactly think that someone such as myself is qualified to answer that question, all things considered,” Severus replied from the couch, where he was reclining against the armrest and reading the Prophet. “I seem to recall a few years in the service of a Dark Lord.”         

 

“I’m serious,” Hermione replied, pretending to pout.

 

“I can’t tell you what to do with your life. I only just got out of my own constraints, and I’m not interested in trying to burden myself again for at least a while.”

 

“Do you regret this?  _ Us _ ? The Hallowick did seem to mention that our current situation would be permanent, and I know how you feel about relying on the magical abilities of Dark creatures.”  Hermione looked away, embarrassed that she was bringing up the insecurities that had begun mounting ever since she’d begun writing her commencement speech. She’d begun to wonder if being out in the real world, away from the familiarity of Hogwarts, would make Severus realize that he was being foolish by shacking up with a woman so much younger than he was by over two decades.

 

Severus flipped down the top half of his paper and fixed her with an unamused look. “Do you remember what I said when you asked me what I wanted if I could escape from that damnable castle once and for all?”

 

“If I’m remembering correctly, you said something about reading and having plenty of time without dunderheads about?” Hermione ventured.

 

“Close.” Severus folded the newspaper carefully and placed it on the armrest.  “Come here.”

 

Hermione stood and moved slowly across the room until she was standing in front of him.

 

“Now, close your eyes,” Severus purred softly, taking Hermione’s hand as she shivered with delight at the sensation of pleasure that washed over her from his touch.

 

“Now what?” Hermione asked. She could hear Severus rummaging around in what sounded to be his coat.

 

“Open your eyes, Hermione.”

 

Hermione did as he asked and saw his pleading expression before she saw the ring held tighly between his thumb and forefinger.

 

“Hermione, I know it hasn’t been long, but my mind is made up, and I felt that you deserve to know sooner rather than later.  When the Hallowick said  _ forever _ , I ached with joy and relief to know that I’d finally found what I’d wished for all those years ago.  I know I should feel stupid for being so mushy and romantic, but I don’t care!” Severus stared into her eyes with an intensity that made Hermione bite her lip. “True happiness by your side is more than I could have ever dreamed for, Hermione, and if you would do the honor of taking me, flaws and all, I will do anything it takes to bring you the happiness you deserve as well.”

 

Severus paused, his shoulders heaving slightly as he caught his breath.

 

Hermione smiled and reached to stroke his cheek gently, leaning in and kissing his nose for good measure.

 

“Of course,” she said, “on one condition.”

 

“Yes?” he asked, his voice the barest of a whisper.

 

“Never stop being the snarky bastard I know and love,” Hermione said, smirking. “I want you, Severus...and all that entails.”

 

In one fluid motion, Severus stood, scooping Hermione in his arms and spun her around.

 

“Be careful what you wish for,” he said, his lips turning up in a smirk as she squealed with glee.

 

“Don’t worry, Severus,” she replied with a grin, as he set her down and steadied her to keep her from falling over, “I was, and I got  _ exactly _ what I wanted.”

* * *

 

_ The Hallowick rides on All Hallow’s Eve night _

_ And will offer a boon if you play your cards right _

_ For the Hallowick flies with a head full of fire, _

_ And cannot resist a pure-hearted desire. _

 

_ Oh, the head may be fickle, but the heart knows the score, _

_ And the risk may be great in the quest for reward, _

_ But despite all the fears and the worry and strife, _

_ A wish that is granted will change your whole life. _

 

_ So let your heart soar and your mind fill with ease, _

_ And play a few tricks on your friends, if you please, _

_ And tell a few jokes ‘til each laugh shakes your sides. _

_ For tonight we rejoice, for the Hallowick rides. _

  
  
  



End file.
